Spider's Thread
by damsaldarkness
Summary: Ciel would cling onto that thread of despair, and leave the orphanage for the arms of the one who evaded his malice, and offered a cure.   rated M for future lemon


Author's Note-I will try to put what's left of my heart into this. Ciel will of course be based off the Ciel in the anime, but bits and pieces of myself will also be thrown into the story. Comments will be veryyyyyyyyyy much appreciated.  
the poetry is written by me and if anyone tries to steal it ill make sure there are consequences. The anime is not mine and i dont own anything having to do with Kuroshitsuji. -

Ciel gazed at his small blue notebook, the fibers binding the pages together, were tearing. He had been living in The Earl Orphanage for the past few years, memories of the Black Market taunting his soul into a bloody mess. They had poked, prodded, and done unspeakable things to him and his once innocent body, but the time will come for them to fall into their own web. That string of despair he clung to would suffice at suffocating his adversaries.

Ciel's thoughts were interrupted by an unwanted voice.

"Ciel! Ciel! Will you play with me in the courtyard?" A blonde with loose curls begged, pouting her dry lips at him. Her dress was old and tattered, threatening to turn to dust. Ciel gazed at her innocent green eyes and a word skidded across his mind, naive.  
"Elizabeth, I will not play with you in the courtyard." He stated simply, and crossed his arms, avoiding further conversation.  
"Ciellll! Why don't you ever talk to me? Why don't you ever try to connect with the rest of us?" The orphaned girl began to cry, grabbing at his shoulder.  
"Elizabeth, I will not play with you in the courtyard." He stated again, this time annunciating his words rather slowly.  
"Stop acting like a snobby Phantomhive, you don't even deserve the ring on your finger!" Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration before she ran off.

Finally, he was left to his devices. He sighed softly, and breathed deep.

Outside the small orphanage window, snow sprinkled the grounds, children laughed, and babies cried. Such a mundane day. The fake smiles and monotonous tasks that people binded their lives to were all vile. Of no interest. Ciel's stomach lurched and he coughed violently, such things really didn't agree with his body.

His eyes, instead, were drawn towards a small patch of snow, once pure and clean, the frost was now laden with soot and charcoal. Yet in the aftermath, a small weed grew out of the once-pure slush. A pest to most, a refreshing site to Ciel.

Ciel's attention was again, mildly provoked. A man of tall stature, and brilliant ivory skin bent down towards the mucky snow pile, a small black cat in one arm, and plucked out the weed. The man's eyes closed in deep pleasure, as he put the small plant in his pocket. A small smile graced his chiseled features as he pet the plush kitten. His crimson eyes locked with Ciel's, and Ciel felt a shiver make its way up his spine, the man was undeniably stunning. Ciel sighed with shame and distaste.

His dull blue eyes moved slowly back to the notebook, a pen in his small, ashen hand. Ciel had been writing since the tragedy of his parents death, he had lost everything. His ties to the material and even to himself were detached, his only tie to life was through words written. Bitterness moved through his veins as he wrote, and that was his string. His string to pull himself from the despair, was despair. Yet, he would cling to it for all he was worth, even lose himself to it.  
January 20, 1887 I am...  
The stain of an adage,  
On Victorian goblets.  
My soul's tied by...  
aged petals of navy hydrangeas.  
I'm tainted by...  
French kisses Of the ashen.

Ciel wrote in the comfort of the short-lived silence, and when inspiration evaded him, he put his pen down, and rested his eyes. They closed slowly, thick smoky eyelashes casting shadows over his childish cheeks. Soon a strawberry blonde interrupted the silence.  
"Ciel, Ciel, I have something important to say!" Dear Finny, who knows, maybe if things had turned out differently the boy would've ended up as his servant.  
"What is your concern?" Ciel stated arrogantly, still hanging on to his pride and dignity. It was the Phantomhive way.  
"Their doing an auction today, you might find yourself a guardian!" Finny grasped Ciel's wrist excitedly, only to have it smacked away.  
"This is my concern...?" Ciel said in a tired manner. He yawned and stretched his arms out.  
The blonde looked at him with blue doe-eyes, pleading his case. "I know that things haven't worked out in the past auctions, but I really think that you might find yourself someone this time!" Finny searched Ciel's eyes for some form of excitement, finding none, he sulked and went on his way.

Ciel was getting tired of all the interruptions, such childish minds. When people walk on roads filled with flowers and such, they forget that every road can't evade the winter. Either way, it's a long walk.

later that day-  
Ciel and all the other orphans were gathered outside, the dying vines a fitting embroidery to the pallid garden within the courtyard. Finny really should complete his chores a bit more efficiently. Ciel coughed violently again, curling into himself, he was not good at handling the cold. He covered his mouth as a small bit of blood and saliva came out, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his full lips.

One of the strange care takers stood up with a sound-funnel, bengals making small jingles as he prepared to speak. He stated he was Prince Soma of India, and expected the orphans to follow his every command, but Ciel was convinced that the man was delirious. "As you know, today is the 20th of January, it is also the Winter Auction. One of you will find a home. A man is on his way at this very moment, to provide one of you all you want, and more! He is gracious enough to spend his money, time, and efforts to help raise one of you! He is on his way here right now! He will invest in the future of the coming generation, how generous! How fantastic! How awesome!" Soma went on with his speech, but something caught Ciel's attention.  
"Here is, Sebastian Michaelis! Renowned doctor and professor!" A man in a tuxedo made his way across the courtyard, his feline-like figure unmistakable. Thick strands of midnight hair framed wine-colored eyes, the man looked intoxicating.  
He grasped hold of the spotlight gracefully, a smirk setting its way across thin red-stained lips.  
"I plan on taking one of you home soon, do your best to be of my interest." He stated simply, raising a suggestive(?) eyebrow at Ciel.  
Ciel's insides reacted in a mixture of shock and confusion, Sebastian winked suavely at him and handed the limelight back to Soma, walking off the stage with his black leather shoes.

Ciel had another silent fit of coughing, and more blood made its way up his throat. He lost focus on his surroundings, and felt himself growing very sleepy, his eyes drifted open...closed...open...closed Sebastian saw the dizzy look on Ciel's face, and made his way through the courtyard. He grasped the fainted boy in his arms, and proceeded to walk out of the courtyard and into the bunkrooms, Sebastian lay Ciel on the small cottage bed, his eyes darkened, as he licked his lips slowly. "You will be mine...Bocchan" He said silkily before kissing the boy's forehead chastely. He popped a pill into his own mouth, and kissed Ciel hotly, passing the pill from his lips to Ciel's.

"Swallow..." He said softly and watched the small orphan swallow the pill, shivering again. Sebastian was a bit worried that Ciel had something serious.

Sebastian took out a small glass vase he was carrying in a burlap sack of his, and proceeded to pull out the crumpled weed from his pocket.

"Mine..." He said again quietly, pressing his moist lips firmly against Ciel's. Ciel shivered slightly in his sleep. Sebastian grinned as he pulled off his tuxedo coat and lay it over Ciel's small frame.

Ciel woke up in a small state of amnesia, before looking on a small nightstand next to the cottage bed. There lay the weed, from earlier, in a vase. With the words "To you..." scribbled in script on a paper set under the vase. Ciel smelled a scent of Armani cologne on him, and looked down, seeing Sebastian's suit-coat, he blushed. Ciel pulled the damp scrap from under the vase, staring at it for what seemed like a while, before succumbing to sleep once again.

authors note- leave me feedback, give me lemon suggestions, and yes, armani cologne will now exist in the 1800s. :P


End file.
